


Comrades for Whom Ev’ry Battle is a Dance

by Woldy



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Banter, Blow Job, Community: kinkme_merlin, Infidelity, M/M, Power Dynamics, Reunions, Voyeurism, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-31
Updated: 2009-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:53:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woldy/pseuds/Woldy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lancelot's return demands a celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comrades for Whom Ev’ry Battle is a Dance

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt '[Arthur/Lancelot](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/2045.html?thread=381693#t381693), Lancelot returns to Camelot. Arthur gives him a welcome home blow job' at [](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/profile)[**kinkme_merlin**](http://community.livejournal.com/kinkme_merlin/) . This fic is not beta-ed, so I apologise for any mistakes.

In retrospect, this should have been obvious from the first time Arthur met Lancelot. Even then, there’d been a special dynamic between them, because the respect and intimacy that Arthur showed towards Lancelot surpassed his bond with any other knight.

Something of this been visible in the way their heads bent together, dark against fair, during the feast when Lancelot was knighted. Even when fighting their steps back-and-forth, the twists of their bodies and the mid-air clashes of their weapons had the quality of a dance.

Anyone who cared to look would have seen the flirting in their glances, and nobody could doubted the passion with which Arthur had argued Lancelot’s case before his father, nor his regret when Lancelot left.

“Lancelot, you’ve already proved that to us,” Arthur had said, almost uncomprehending, and Merlin recalled the disappointment and confusion on Arthur’s face when Lancelot replied “But I must prove it to myself.”

Even as they watched Lancelot ride away, the red cloak of Camelot’s knights billowing behind him, Merlin had been certain that one day he would return.

Almost ten years elapsed before a fully-armoured knight strode into Arthur’s court, swept through the doorway of the throne room and pulled off his helmet to reveal Lancelot’s face.

Arthur ordered the most lavish banquet that Camelot’s kitchens and cellars could provide at three hours notice, so the food and wine had flowed freely. As the meal progressed Merlin noticed the way Arthur leaned in towards Lancelot, clapped his shoulder and - as they murmured confidences that even magic did not let him overhear - saw Arthur sling his arm around Lancelot’s shoulders. There was camaraderie between all the knights, of course, but Arthur had never touched the others like that.

“I’m going to retire,” Arthur said, swaying a little as he got to his feet. “Lancelot, let’s continue this discussion in private.”

Lancelot smiled, his brown eyes fixed on Arthur’s own, and Merlin thought, _you’ve got to be kidding if you expect us to believe you two are sleeping separately._

As Arthur’s manservant it was Merlin’s duty to follow them to Arthur’s room, where he banked the fire and filled the water jugs. When Arthur firmly dismissed him then it was easy for Merlin to step into a shadow beside the doorway and whisper a spell that made their eyes slide over him and let their minds assume he’d already gone.

All these years later there was still something of a battle in the way they touched. Arthur pressed Lancelot against the bedpost, muscles coiling in his biceps and the line of his back, and Lancelot arched back against him. Marlin saw Arthur grip Lancelot’s shirt in his fist and ripped it open from throat to belly, revealing the taught bronzed skin of Lancelot’s stomach.

Lancelot’s eyes widened and Arthur smirked in response.

“Come on Lancelot,” he said, mimicking the tone of the arrogant prince he’d been when he last said those words, a decade ago, “you’re not beating a carpet.”

Lancelot grasped Arthur’s shoulders and wrenched him round, throwing Arthur down onto the bed. Lancelot leaned in close to Arthur’s ear as he said, “You still want me to kill you?”

“What do you think?” Arthur asked roughly, wrapping his hand in Lancelot’s long hair to pull him into a kiss.

Merlin watched them undress one another, tugging and fumbling in a manner that ripped fabric more than it unbuttoned laces, until both men lay naked and beautiful in the candlelight. Arthur licked a hot trail down Lancelot’s chest, leaving red bite-marks as if they were trophies, and Merlin heard him murmur, “I’m glad you’re home,” before taking Lancelot into his mouth.

There were no words for the way Arthur looked with his pink lips around Lancelot’s cock, nor for the way Lancelot surged beneath him. Lancelot gave stifled cry and his hands clenched in the sheets, Arthur’s broad hands tracing over the muscles of his stomach, and Merlin was certain that Arthur wouldn’t have done this for anyone else.

On another day, between different men, this might have been an act of submission, but every gleaming, flexing muscle in Arthur’s body demanded a response from Lancelot, taking the hungry sounds and gestures as his due. Arthur’s movements only paused when Lancelot stuttered, “Sire,” and Arthur pulled away to say, “Not from you, Lancelot. You’re my comrade, not my subject.”

If there was magic in the graceful steps of the unicorn and the massive coil of the dragon’s wings, then there was magic in this - in every thrust and jagged breath. When Lancelot finally came, his head thrown back and his lips parted in a wordless shout, every flame in the room leapt for a moment, and Merlin couldn’t tell if it was his own unconscious magic or just them.

Arthur slid up the bed for another kiss, his hand curving possessively around the nape of Lancelot’s neck, and Merlin could only imagine how Lancelot must feel to be tasting himself from Arthur’s mouth. Lancelot wrapped his arms around Arthur’s back, flexed muscle meeting muscle as he dragged Arthur closer, and Merlin concluded that they were probably going to have a long night.

Merlin moved silently along the shadowed line of the wall and slid the door open, closing it gently behind himself as he left them to continue unobserved. Within two days Gwen would be back from her trip and, Merlin reflected with a smile, someone would have to inform her of this development between her once-crush and her husband. Somehow, he didn’t think she was going to be disappointed.


End file.
